


I Like What You See

by Conzieu



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Utterly pathetic lack of smut or anything offensive in any way.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-13
Updated: 2013-11-13
Packaged: 2018-01-01 08:23:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1042557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Conzieu/pseuds/Conzieu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Act one: Ten years later, Severus and Harry meet again for the first time since Hogwarts.<br/>Act two: For the first time, Harry reveals important facts concerning the state of his heart to Severus.<br/>Act three: They have hot sex for the first time and ever after happiness ensues (Implied).</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Like What You See

**Author's Note:**

> Written for "First time for everything" fest on Snape_Potter, this fic ridiculously overuses the prompt.  
> It is the _first time_ I’ve written a PG-13 Snarry, and the _first time_ Ashbright has betaed something of mine (See? It's starting already...!).

**I Like What You See**

 

The first time Severus saw Harry Potter as a man, he was at Twillfit and Tattings, ordering new robes. That too was a first. For years, at Hogwarts, he’d only worn teaching robes, and then had made do with the two sets of classic black robes he’d purchased years ago with one of his first paychecks. At the time, he’d picked a fine merino wool material he’d been assured would wear well, and it had. He was wearing one of them now, twenty years later.

It was his first trip to London that year. Some of the highest quality brewing supplies could only be found in Diagon Alley, and though he used mail order often, some ingredients he just had to pick for himself.

His small brewing business had provided for him adequately for years, but for the first time since he had established “Prince’s Potions” after leaving Hogwarts, he felt he had money to spend on non-essentials. He had, these past two years, made a very significant profit. He had yielded to Slughorn’s advice, and had advertised his wares in the Prophet for the first time two springs ago, instead of relying on word of mouth to increase his business. He’d since had to hire four more employees, and now had a staff of nine. He was able to limit himself to brewing the most delicate and challenging potions in his arsenal, which, as an added benefit, freed up more of his time.

Severus had therefore attended the four main Potions conferences for the last two years, presenting a new paper to each. He had found himself surprisingly popular with the younger Potions Masters, his creativity and novel approach to the art much appreciated in the proverbially staid world of potion-making. He’d become closer acquainted with many of them, and had found to his surprise that others could actually appreciate his sarcastic sense of humor. He now considered some of them friends. (A few, to his delight, even appreciated his rather unconventional physique, or at least were so blinded by his academic brilliance, they overlooked it.)

One of his closest new friends, a dynamic and charismatic young woman by the name of Lithea Taniek (with a Potions Mastery from Beauxbatons), had convinced him to co-author the first new Potions textbook to be produced in almost a hundred years. After months of hard work, he had his book published to general acclaim, the clear and easy to follow instructions actually finding an audience outside of academia.

The British Society of Potioneers had announced it was to recognize Severus and Lithea’s most recent contribution to their art by bestowing upon them its highest accolade: the much coveted Golden Cauldron Award. Severus needed new robes for the occasion and had decided to yield to Lithea’s advice to use the opportunity to get a whole new wardrobe. She claimed she was tired of him looking like her poor country cousin, and that his old-fashioned attire was cramping her style.

Well, she’d also pointed out that Severus might actually ‘get some action,’ as she put it, outside of the conferences (where he always found very willing admirers) if he presented himself better. That he could get laid more often, and by men who might not worship him only for his potions talent, had been a convincing argument.

And so it was that, as he was being presented with some of the finest materials Twilfitt and Tattings had to offer, he noticed another customer trying on a suit. It nicely outlined the dark haired man’s very fit body and, in particular, showcased his very fine arse.

The shop assistant having left Severus’ side to procure the samples of a cashmere blend he thought would please his apparently well funded client, Severus was given the opportunity to further observe the attractive other customer.

Therefore, it would be probably accurate to say that the first thing Severus noticed about Harry Potter was his firm and attractive backside. Then Severus’ eyes traveled up to a narrow waist, broad shoulders, and messy hair, which just begged for fingers to be carded through it.

The mirror offered him the reflection of a handsome and masculine face, a laughing mouth and the most remarkable green eyes.

Looking at the young person standing next to the three-way mirror, who seemed to have incited the stranger’s laughter as waited for his trousers to be pinned, Severus was surprised to recognize Miss Hermione Granger or, more accurately, Mrs. Ronald Weasley, since he was aware his two ex-students had tied the knot within a year of completing their Hogwarts education. He still remembered the double announcement of the Granger-Weasley and the Weasley-Potter upcoming nuptials in the paper, years ago.

Granger’s hair was still… unmistakable.

It was not until he returned his gaze with some suspicion to the man she was speaking with that he was able to see beyond the five o’clock shadow and the absence of the ridiculous eyewear, and indeed, identify the man for who he was.

Just as he did so, the man’s eyes in the reflection focused on him with recognition, and to his astonishment, Harry Potter smiled at him brightly in greeting.

It certainly was the first time Severus had been on the receiving end of such a spontaneous and obviously genuine smile from a Potter male. He nodded to Potter, and was saved from a possible awkward situation by the return of the shop assistant, who presented him with samples that were very nice indeed.

They had gone on to viewing the drawings of that season’s most fashionable robes when they were politely interrupted by an agreeable man’s voice.

“Forgive us for intruding, but we did not want to leave without saying ‘Hello.’”

The salesman halted his discourse, using the interruption to reach for more patterns.

“Master Snape, it is a pleasure to see you, sir,” said Granger.

Trust the know-it-all to use his proper title. He stood up and bowed lightly to her. “The pleasure is mine, Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Potter.”

“Congratulations on your Golden Cauldron Award, Professor,” said Potter unexpectedly.

“Thank you.”

Severus’s face must have shown his surprise, because Potter added, “I own your book. And I use it. Often.”

“Harry is keeping us all supplied in Pepperup, Dreamless Sleep and headache remedy,” said Granger, and then she added, with a mischievous grin. “It’s sixth-year and the Half-Blood Prince all over again.”

Potter blushed slightly, and gave her a dirty look. Severus pretended not to notice.

“I am glad you find the book helpful. Master Taniek and I have been gratified it was so well received.”

“Well, we will let you get back to…” started Potter.

Granger interrupted him. “Harry will see you at the Society’s awards banquet. He is representing the Minister,” she said. “He volunteered.”

Potter let out a long-suffering sigh, and told Severus, “The heads of departments have to represent the Minister at many functions throughout the year. I did indeed volunteer for the British Potioneers’ award banquet. At least, I know one of the recipients. I look forward to seeing you honored.”

Severus nodded in acknowledgement. “Will Mrs. Potter also be in attendance?”

Potter looked baffled. His ever-helpful friend came to the rescue. “Oh! Harry and Ginny divorced years ago. Within three weeks of the wedding, actually,” she supplied. “It was in all the papers. She’s been happily married to Draco Malfoy for six years.”

Severus was quite horrified by his faux pas, but Potter smiled at him.

“It’s refreshing to meet someone who does not follow all the gossip. No worries. Ginny and Draco are much better suited than she and I ever were, and running the Auror department has kept me plenty busy.”

“Harry is a workaholic. He is married to his career. He has no life,” added Granger, helpfully.

“Thank you, Hermione, for sharing your insightful opinion on the matter.” Potter smiled at Severus and rolled his eyes. “If you’ll excuse me, I will now go home to re-evaluate my life choices. Have a nice afternoon, Professor.”

Sarcasm looked good on Potter. “If I am ever given the chance, I will make sure to introduce Mrs. Weasley to Master Taniek. They seem to have a lot in common,” Severus replied. “Good day to you both.”

He enjoyed Potter’s grin. For the first time, but not the last, he wondered what could cause a young couple to divorce within three weeks of their wedding, while evidently remaining good friends…

=o=o=

Because Severus had an inquiring mind, some interesting suppositions and time on his hands, he stopped by the offices of the Prophet on his way out of town.

A very helpful young lady, who apparently did follow all the gossip, had no problems retrieving the pertinent editions of the Prophet from the archives.

The Potter versus Potter divorce was a case of “Irreconcilable Differences.”

Potter was quoted as saying that Ginny Weasley was lovely, but that they were both very young and inexperienced, and had rushed too fast into marriage. Ginny, on the other hand, claimed that Harry would always be her personal hero and good friend, but that she realized they had not known each other quite as well as they’d thought.

Which was all well and good, but was not as helpful as it could have been. Luckily, as he returned the papers, the young lady at the archive desk advised him that he might wish to consult one more edition, which she handed to him with a rather noticeable blush.

For the very first time, Severus found himself assiduously reading an article written by Rita Skeeter. It named no names, but reported ‘the shameful propensity’ by ‘wizards of a certain proclivity’ (including some influential individuals in Wizarding society, perhaps even wizards occupying important positions within the Ministry of Magic), to frequent Muggle establishments catering to a ‘like clientele’.

It was accompanied by a photograph, which must have frustrated Miss Skeeter no end. It showed two men, rather affectionate towards one another, leaving just such an establishment. There was little doubt the taller of the two (in possession of the messy hair, the broad shoulder, the narrow waist and delightful bum Severus had so shortly before been admiring) was Harry Potter, but at no time did the picture actually capture his face, making it impossible for Skeeter to name him without risking a defamation suit.

How that must have stung the harpy…

However severe a let down the experience might have been to Skeeter, it rather made Severus’ day by confirming his suspicions.

Severus was no fool. He was twenty years older than Potter. Though his tall, lean body was not without attraction, his face, with his prominent nose and deep bitter lines certainly was. Though he certainly looked better these days than he had while a Potions Master at Hogwarts (as his somewhat regular sex life could attest), he was nowhere near Potter’s league.

Still, he could draw some satisfaction out of knowing he’d not wasted his time ogling a straight man and that whatever fantasies might come of it in the depth of the night, they were not wholly unrealistic.

=o=o=

Severus was a little perplexed actually, by about exactly how many of his fantasies, over the next three weeks, centered on Harry Potter, his perky rear end and his vivid green eyes.

Because his invitation clearly included a +1, Severus had originally intended to ask one of his few female friends to be his date for the evening of the awards banquet. Yet the day of the banquet dawned, and here he was, without a companion for the evening.

He also, for the first time ever, felt the bizarre need to seek someone’s (Lithea’s) opinion as to which of his new robes looked best (the midnight blue ones) and whether or not he ought to tie his freshly washed hair back (yes! Definitely, it showed off his great cheekbones). It was just a bit worrisome that he should look forward to seeing Harry Potter again almost as much as he did getting one of the greatest honors a Potions Master could receive.

He was simply ridiculously thrilled when, upon taking his honoree’s seat at the high table facing the room, he found that the name card on the setting between his and the lectern simply said “Ministry Official”. Lithea, sweet girl that she was, who sat on his other side, actually offered to trade seats since on her other side sat the rising star of the Oxford Magical University Potions department, Master Evrard, a young man with whom she knew Severus was rather… intimately acquainted. The obvious pleasure on the man’s face at hearing her offer would ordinarily have sealed the deal, yet Severus demurred, and remained firmly ensconced in his assigned chair.

A few minutes before the master of ceremonies was to start his speech, Head Auror Potter made a rather discreet entrance. As a matter of fact, Severus himself did not become aware of his presence until Potter removed an evidently quite powerful ”Notice me not” charm from himself before sitting down. He wore his Auror’s dress robes extremely well.

Potter was a little out of breath. “I tried not too cut it too close,” he explained with a smile that warmed Severus. “I was hoping to at least have a chance to greet you properly before all the boring speeches.”

Suddenly aware of what he’d just said, he tried to backtrack. “Though of course I am sure your speech will not be boring in the least…”

Severus chuckled. “No, not my speech. Of course not.”

Potter chuckled, too. “Open mouth, insert foot. That’s pretty much my modus operandi when I’m trying to…” He seemed to check himself preemptively this time, and change course. “Anyway… I still clearly remember the start of term speech you gave our first year class, you know. You made an impression.”

He quoted, “‘I don’t expect you will really understand the beauty of the simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses…’ That was definitely not a boring speech.”

Severus could not help but be flattered Potter would remember his well-rehearsed little monologue, especially knowing he had then proceeded, for the first time of many, to try and terrify the child, to firmly set the tone for their future interactions, starting as he meant to go on. He had known the Dark Lord would some day return, and that only Potter’s deeply engrained and well known mistrust of him would justify his inability to simply deliver the ‘Boy Who Lived’ to his master on a silver platter.

“I’d practiced that one on ten years’ worth of first years by then,” he admitted modestly.

Potter’s crestfallen expression was endearing. Then he recovered, shook his head at his own naïveté and said, “Obviously. Would you believe that until this very moment, I had thought you had been ad-libbing?”

Severus was saved from answering by the master of ceremonies clearing his throat, casting Sonorus and greeting the guests.

His droning, lackluster speech was the epitome of sleep-inducing public-speaking, and the first time their eyes met, both Severus and Potter had to stop themselves from chuckling. It happened a second time, after which they made sure to avoid looking at each other again, lest they just burst out laughing. Severus could not believe his own lack of self-control. He was feeling like one of his own first year students.

The master of ceremonies finally introduced Potter, the ‘Head Of the Auror Department’, the ‘Boy who Lived’, The ‘Savior of the…” and Potter mumbled, “Oh, for Merlin’s sake!” before getting up and cutting the man off with a brief, “Thank you.” He started his own speech without further ado.

“Good Evening, Ladies and Gentleman. It is my honor to be here this evening to see two great Potions Masters being recognized by their peers. Their contributions to their art have been great and many. Through their latest endeavor, the creation of a remarkable Potions textbook, they ensure that many more great discoveries in this field will be made. Future Potions advancements will stem directly from the love Master Lithea Taniek and Master Severus Snape’s textbook will inspire for their art in generations of students. Through me, the Ministry of Magic, representing the Wizarding world at large, thanks them deeply for their awesome contribution.”

Potter was already sitting back down when the crowd, delighted by his brevity, rewarded it with thunderous applause.

“Oh, well done, Auror Potter. Short and sweet. And thank you.”

Potter smiled at him. “You are welcome. And that was ad-libbed, by the way.” He got out a sheath of tightly written pages from his pocket. “This is what they gave me to read tonight. Take it. It might come in handy if you ever have difficulties falling asleep…”

The master of ceremonies had called the president of the British Society of Potioneers to the pulpit. He, thank heaven, was not expected to speak, but only to introduce Lithea and Severus and present them with their Golden Cauldrons awards, which he did diligently.

Lithea had bullied Severus into giving the acceptance speech for the both of them. He decided to make sure at least one person present would appreciate it.

“It is both Master Taniek's and my dearest wish that Auror Potter’s prediction may be proven true, that we may, through our textbook, inspire future generations to love the subtle science and exact art that is Potion-making.

We hope we will succeed in making them understand the beauty of the simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses, so that they some day may discover how to bottle fame, brew glory and even stopper death.

We are deeply honored by your recognition of our efforts. Thank you.”

The audience was just as deeply grateful to have been spared the agony of sitting, stomach empty, through lengthy self-congratulatory speeches. They happily followed Auror Potter’s example when he got to his feet to give Severus and Lithea a standing ovation. The two Masters returned to their seats instead of lingering at the pulpit, and it was possible that for once, the ubiquitous roasted chicken served at all such occasions might actually be served still juicy and tender.

“I thought you’d like that one,” Severus said to Potter, who was grinning at him.

“It has lost none of its mysterious poetry, but it is the first time I realize how much of its beauty stems from the delivery. You have a mesmerizing voice. I might, for once, even have enjoyed a longer speech.”

Severus smiled. “Ah, Auror Potter, flattery will get you everywhere.”

“Will it, now?” Potter looked at him speculatively. “Well, then, let me add that you look stunning in these robes, though of course you even managed to make simple teaching robes look regal…”

“Is that so?” Though he did not show it, Severus was delighted. For the first time that evening, he allowed that yes, Potter was indeed flirting with him.

“Oh, yes. And tying your hair back does wonders for your cheekbones…”

“And where exactly would you like this shameless flattery to get you, Auror Potter?”

Potter’s green gaze was spellbinding as he answered softly, “As far as you’ll let me go…” and Severus’ heart did something funny, though he wasn’t sure what.

The moment was ended by the rude arrival of the aforementioned chicken, and Potter attacking his own portion like a man starved.

“I am in the middle of a case. Today, I didn’t even have time for lunch,” he explained sheepishly between bites. “I actually have three teams out on a sting operation this evening. I have to go back to the office after dinner.”

For the first time in what had been so far a perfect evening, Severus felt disappointed, though he wasn’t sure what he had been expecting.

“Was Mrs. Weasley speaking the truth, then?” he asked. “Are you truly married to your work?”

Potter smiled. “I did go home that day and re-evaluated my priorities, you know. And yes, she was absolutely right. I need to get a life. That’s in fact why I came here tonight, though I would have had a perfectly legitimate excuse to bow out and force Minister Shacklebolt to do his own dirty work, for once.”

“Oh, really? So eating rubbery chicken with an old professor at an award banquet is what you consider ‘getting a life’?”

Potter chuckled. “Hardly! And that chicken is actually quite delicious. Try it!” He himself finished his portion, and ate his last remaining green bean, before continuing.

“I came here tonight in the hope of convincing you to… Uh… To spend time with me.”

Was Potter asking him on a date?

“Do you mean socially? Having dinner together? That sort of thing?”

Potter frowned. “Well, yeah. That could definitely be part of it,” he said earnestly.

It could be part of it? Part of what? Potter was confusing the hell out of him. Severus tried to clarify. “You would like to… go out with me?”

Potter looked suddenly miserable.

“See? I told Hermione this was a bad idea. Why should you want to spend time with me? I’ve no education, am twenty years too young, know nothing but my job, have no social graces, have nothing to recommend myself, while you! You’re brilliant at everything, you own a successful business, you’re admired everywhere you go, you’re tall, and elegant and mysterious, and now your voice…” He shook his head. “I’m an idiot. I should never have listened to her. I apologize for having made you uncomfortable.”

Potter made a face. “I would leave now, but I saw there is chocolate cake for dessert, and I’m still hungry. So just… Just ignore me.”

Severus wanted to shake him in frustration. “Potter! Just answer the damn question! What do you mean by ‘spend time with you’ if you do not mean interacting socially?”

Potter looked up, surprised. “Well, no, I don’t mean that I don’t… I’m all for dinners and… things. Really I am. But I guess, well, you heard that idiot with the ‘Boy who lived’ and the ‘Savior’ bullsh… uh, stuff. I’d much rather if we could just spend time together… privately.”

Well, that was progress. “Do you mean… perhaps dinner at your house?” Severus suggested.

For a moment, Potter closed his eyes as if in pain. His deep sigh sounded discouraged. “Snape, I can’t cook! …Oh, fuck it. What I mean is… I’d love for you to come over for take-out and a shag, all right? Or just the shag, if you’re short on time. If you really wanted to, we could go out to dinner and then go shag, but I’m warning you: everyone would know we’re shagging. You live on the moor. No busybodies, there. We could go for nice long walks, then go back to your place…”

“And shag? I’m picking up a recurring theme here, Potter,” said Severus, suddenly feeling very agreeable.

“Yeah, well. Believe me, if we were spending time together and I had my way, it would be a recurring theme. Ever since I saw you at Twilfitt and Tattings… Well let’s just say it has been on my mind.”

“So, though it seems to be an important part of your proposition, you are not just looking for… a quick shag.” For the first time ever, Severus wanted much more than that himself.

“If that’s all I wanted, I could just go to a Muggle club!” Potter shrugged, and mumbled, “I’m not a troll, you know.”

“Indeed you are not,” agreed Severus. “Far from it. Which demands the question. There must be many attractive young men who would, no doubt, be thrilled to have your attentions, men much better humored than myself. I have to wonder…”

Potter looked at Severus as if he were being obtuse. “I don’t want them!” he said, dismissing untold numbers of possible suitors with a wave of his hand. “You don’t understand. It all started in sixth year, you see. With your old Potions book? The Half-Blood Prince? All those notes everywhere? He was brilliant, and witty, and sarcastic. I felt he would have understood me, which my friends, no matter how much they cared, never really could.

“The Prince knew what it felt like to be different, self-reliant. Granted, that Sectumsempra ‘for enemies’, threw me for a loop, but then! You came and saved the day. I remember: you, kneeling in all that blood, so calm, so focused, just chanting that incantation, and me, useless, watching the worst mistake of my life just being… mended, right in front of my eyes. It was awesome, in the true sense of the word. Which made all the things that followed so much harder to take, honestly.

“Then, after everything, after you pretty much came back from the dead (because of course you had prepared for the worst, of course you would have known which potions to take), and we all came back to sit our NEWTs, you were so different. You seemed… at peace. I remember watching you at the high table, joking with McGonagall, and actually laughing. I started to reconcile in my mind that you and the Prince were indeed one and the same. I missed that book, and for more than the Potions tips. After it was destroyed, I’d felt I’d lost… someone. But then you were there, laughing and awesome, and even though you never even looked at me, it was all right.”

The cake was served, but Severus was too stunned by Potter’s simple, eloquent confession to even think of food. Potter took a bite of his, obviously enjoying it, and went on.

“Neville, Seamus, Dean and Ron bought me your textbook for my birthday when it came out.” He rolled his eyes, smiling indulgently. “They thought it was funny considering the number of times they’d heard me toss off thinking about the Half Blood Prince. …Oh, yeah. I did that. A lot. Sorry. (You would think that that little factoid would have made me think twice about marrying a girl, wouldn’t you?). They’re idiots. It was a joke, and the book’s obviously not the same, it’s just a textbook, but it is a great one. I find brewing really kind of relaxing, actually.”

He smiled at Severus, as if knowing Severus would know exactly what he meant. And he did.

Potter continued. “But then you were there, at the robe shop, and you looked, well…” He waved his hand up and down, in front of Severus.

“You know how you look, all tall, and dark, and lean, and if I have a type? It’s tall and dark and lean, though of course Hermione is always “Is it the chicken or the egg?” She can be a trial, that one, to be honest, and I don’t care if I am attracted to men who look like you because they do, or if it is my type independent of the fact that I was in love with you all through eighth-year, the bottom line is…”

“Yes, Harry. Yes. I’d love to spend some time with you,” said Severus because he realized he was already half in love with that puzzling man.

Potter’s smile was a thing a beauty, and for first time, Severus understood what people meant when they said a smile could light up a room. He had never wanted to kiss a mouth so much before.

A few people were getting up and it started an exodus. Pretty soon everyone was leaving. Lithea got to her feet, and all the gentlemen at the high table politely did the same. “I’m for home, Severus, good bye,” she said, kissing his cheek. She nodded to Potter with a smile. Because she was a very bright woman, who had noticed that after taking such care in his appearance, Severus had only had time for the young Auror from the Ministry, she turned to Master Evrard and asked, “Would you mind walking me to the Apparation point, darling? I hate crowds!” and took Severus’ one-time lover out of the way.

Severus did not want his evening with Potter to end, but he knew the man had responsibilities and had to get back to the Ministry. Potter looked at him, a line between his brows.

“It’s a big case. I’ve been away a long time. Anything could have happened…”

Severus squeezed his wrist and said, “You mentioned it. I understand.”

“No. No, you don’t. For the first time ever, I don’t care if I’m not there when the case breaks. I really don’t. It’s just work. I have a great team. They can handle it without me. The reports will be on my desk tomorrow. I’d much rather spend time with you…”

“Well,” said Severus smiling, sliding his hand down Potter’s wrist until he reached his hand. “We’ve already had dinner, and it’s too dark for a walk on the moor. Whatever shall we do?”

Fades to black.

 

-The End-


End file.
